


Stories

by incensuous



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: AU assuming Arya goes with Jaqen, Bonding, Gen, Oneshot, mentor/mentee
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-18
Updated: 2013-05-18
Packaged: 2017-12-11 17:52:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/801464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/incensuous/pseuds/incensuous
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Other than hunting, there isn't much to keep themselves entertained, so Arya and Jaqen make do with story-telling.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stories

“Tell me a story.”

The red-haired man looked up briefly from the roasting hare that he had been carefully rotating over the flames. “A man has told a girl many stories.”

“Yours are interesting,” she insisted, from her seat on the flat ground, on the other side of the fire. 

The familiar ghost of a smile flitted across his face, and he canted his head slightly. “A man has had a long life,” he nodded knowingly. “Yet, a girl surely has her own stories, does she not?”

Arya twisted her mouth slightly. She trusted him (at this point, she had to), but she still wasn’t sure how much information she should be giving away. At the same time, she had a niggling feeling that he probably knew at least half of what she was hesitant about sharing anyway. 

During her pause, Jaqen murmured, “Just so,” as he lifted the skinned animal from the fire, handing one stick over to her. 

The phrase brought back memories suddenly. The Faceless Man had said the phrase before, but now that she wasn’t surrounded by the bleak, intimidating walls of Harrenhal nor the encompassing wariness of Lord Lannister, she could think more freely. 

She began, “I told you my teacher, my dancing master, was from Braavos.”

He nodded. “A man remembers.”

Arya had only ever occasionally told stories to Bran and Rickon when they tired of Old Nan's tales, and sometimes Jon and Robb when they’d be nice enough to listen, so she wasn’t sure where to begin and how much to tell. Jaqen, on the other hand, made it seem like he was a bard in a previous life. Nevertheless, she attempted to relate the memory of Syrio Forel, of the lessons that shaped her way. She tried not to furrow her brows at the end of her story, never knowing for certain if he... well, if Syrio Forel told death, “not today,” as she had. She wondered if she would ever know. 

Instead of pondering further on that train of thought, the edge of her mouth quirked a little. “I have no idea what he was doing in King’s Landing, especially during times like those. I don’t even know how my father found him for me.” She paused. “He was the best teacher I could have asked for.” 

The nicely cooked meat sat well in her belly, making her full and drowsy, and her eyelids began to droop. 

The red-haired assassin watched her, his expression soft and bemused. He threw his cloak over to her. “Rest, lovely girl. A man will take first watch.” 

Arya nodded, taking the cloak and settling down on the grassy ground. She closed her eyes and dreamt of the childhood she’d never see again.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't really quite ship Arya with anyone just yet, even though I do enjoy reading fics of certain ships. To be honest, what I'm most interested in are her relationships with people, because I think there are so many great dynamics to be explored, especially with Jaqen and Tywin.


End file.
